


Finishing the Job

by Dedicate Kiwicrocus (cranky__crocus)



Series: SMACKDOWN '11 Round Two - Team Discipline [33]
Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/F, F/M, Goldnelake, smackdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-02
Updated: 2011-06-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 01:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranky__crocus/pseuds/Dedicate%20Kiwicrocus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lark expected Rosethorn to be gone throughout the evening...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finishing the Job

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SMACKDOWN at Goldenlake: fiefgoldenlake.proboards.com

Lark expected Rosethorn to be gone throughout the evening: she was spending the night with Crane. Lark settled at her loom for some solitary weaving, not minding anything in overabundance. She did not, then, expect to sense Rosethorn cross the threshold of her workroom. Lark turned to greet the woman.

            “You’re home?”

            Rosethorn was torn between a grin and a grimace. “Unforeseen circumstances.”

            “In non-Crane language that means…”

            “First Dedicate business that is ‘not in my spectrum of interest.’”

            “I’m sorry, Rosie—you were looking forward to that.”

            Rosie frowned; her face was slightly flushed. “I was. And, well—we were, we were _together_ when the blasted mystery problem arose, so I’m…especially frustrated.”

            Lark couldn’t help grinning. “I can see you’re flushed and bothered. Anything I can do to help?”

            “Lark, you don’t have to—it’s unfair to ask you, given someone else caused it…” Rosethorn took a breath and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m not as young as I once was, quick to bounce back.”

            “And I’m not as young as I once was, quick to grow jealous,” Lark soothed and beckoned to Rosethorn. When she was close enough, Lark pulled the woman into her lap. “Neither Crane nor I would want to see you in such a state.”

            “But I—” Lark’s hand dropped onto her knee, stopping her speech for an instant. “—it’s Crane’s fault—” The hand slipped beneath Rosethorn’s habit and moved up, slender fingers tracing patterns against the woman’s thighs. “— _you_ shouldn’t have to—”

            Lark’s hand reached the highest point between Rosethorn’s legs. “But I _am_ ,” she whispered, nipping at the woman’s ear, “so let’s not let it go to waste with complaints.” Her fingers twitched; Rosie hissed a breath through her teeth as her head fell back, exposing her neck to Lark, who licked the skin there and breathed on it as she spoke. “You can just…thank me later.”

            Rosethorn stood and yanked a grinning Lark from the workshop. It was Crane’s loss, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! C:


End file.
